Sworn To Defiance (21 page)

One man in wealthy mages rose stood in the open arena surrounding the podium. He’d been conversing with a skinny gentleman with brown hair and a sallow face, before he saw them walking in. Turning from his companion with a bow, the noble walked toward the four of them with ground-eating strides. Ciardis was suddenly glad Vana and Thanar were at their backs.

The entire group might feud in the carriage, but before their foes they were a united threat. Vana and Thanar took a step in front of the prince heir and the companion to emphasize that.

The man paused a few feet away from them. Not out of fear but calculation. His eyes swept from left to right in a calculating look. Taking them all in one by one.

“My, my, Ciardis Weathervane,” he said coldly. “I had heard that you brought a tame daemoni and pet assassin to the court, but to see it with my own eyes. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Ciardis stiffened at his tone. “Daemoni Prince Thanar and Lady Companion Vana Cloudbreaker are not my pet anything and I’d ask you to mind your manners, but from that introduction I very much doubt you have any.”

He turned a cold glare on Ciardis and for the first time she noticed a scar bisecting the flesh above and below his right eye. Like a claw mark drawn through his flesh. On anyone else it might have looked debonair, but on him it looked evil and chilling.

His mouth in a thin line. “I also see that tales of your impertinence have not been deceptive, either.”

Sebastian stepped forward. “Lord Gareth, if you have something to say
other
than insults, please do so. But if you’re here to just insult my friends, than please step aside. I believe we have the floor?”

Lord Gareth bared his teeth into a smile. “I believe you do, Prince Heir. But one word of warning. No one brings friends here. They bring conspirators. That has always been your downfall, too gullible, too weak, and too naïve to do what needs to be done.”

“Oh, you mistake me, Lord Gareth, for the weakling you once knew,” Sebastian said with a fierce look in his eyes, “You once sent your son to kill me in the Aether Realm. You should have done a man’s work and done it yourself.”

Lord Gareth said snidely, “From the rumors that abound, that problem will be taken care of shortly.”

“What’s
that
supposed to mean?” said Ciardis with her fists clenched.

“It means, whore, that his father won’t be around to protect the poor, pallid prince for much longer.”

Ciardis wasn’t sure if was the memory of his father that triggered Sebastian’s rage or the man calling her an unbecoming name, but the prince heir lashed out. With the strength gained from training with his soldiers on the field of battle and the anger of a young man’s fierce rage, he balled his hand into a fist and hit Lord Gareth directly in the face.

The man flew back to the ground with his long golden hair flying around his face. When he sat up, blood was running down his face, cold rage was in his eyes, and Ciardis was sure his nose was broken.

“You’ll pay for that, boy,” the downed man said.

“Take it up with my father,” snarled the prince heir as he guided Ciardis past the man.

Ciardis heard Lord Gareth get up with a yell of rage. Sebastian whirled so quickly and pushed Ciardis into Thanar’s arms so fast that she didn’t see what happened next. All she knew was that from one moment to next Lord Gareth had summoned a sword into his hands and Sebastian was parrying his blows with dexterity.

Still Ciardis worried. “Vana,” she shrieked. “Do something.”

Vana stood beside Thanar with Ciardis in the protective circle of his wings. She had a knife in either hand.

She shook her head. “Not unless someone else stupidly gets involved. This is his fight.”

Vana was looking directly at two servants who looked like they were about to rush into the arena to help their master. Catching Vana’s deadly gaze they each held up their hands and slowly backed away.

Meanwhile, Ciardis focused on Sebastian trading sword blow for sword blow with the arrogant lord.

“He’s a titled lord, isn’t he?” she asked.

Without turning around Vana said, “Yes, one of the most influential, as well.”

“If Sebastian wins this fight, will it be important?”

“If he wins,” said Thanar quietly while he put a protective hand on her right shoulder, “it means respect. Respect from his peers. Respect from the nobles who might join your cause.”

Ciardis nodded. “Then I hope he trounces him and then tears his bloody head off. There’s nothing like a beheading to gain respect.”

“I think you mean instill fear,” said Thanar with a laugh.

“In the case of these monsters, I think they need a little fear,” Ciardis said darkly. She became aware of the steady chant of excited voices a minute after Sebastian and Gareth engaged in battle. The nobles were watching the swordfight like a spectator sport. Whenever a blade connected with skin and blood emerged, they screamed. They weren’t interested in a winner or a loser, all they wanted was blood.

Like ravenous wolves
, thought Ciardis darkly.
Looking for their next feeding.

It disgusted her.

The floor of the arena was tile. Slippery and not meant for a fight. Several times Sebastian whirled and she feared he would go down tumbling, but he just came back faster and stronger.

He’s toying with him
, she realized.

Yes, Sebastian is the better fighter
, said Thanar softly.
It’s been too long since Lord Gareth’s seen an arena and even longer since he’s fought for his life.

“Then why is this taking so long?” Ciardis asked.

Vana said, “The fight?”

“Yes,” said Ciardis grumpily. “If Sebastian is clearly the better swordfighter, why did he let Gareth score points?”

“Watch the crowd, Weathervane. Watch and learn,” Vana commented.

Ciardis stepped forward until she was half in and half out of the protective shield of leathery wings that Thanar provided. Then she looked. Truly looked at the crowds surrounding them. She tuned out the noise and chants. Disassociated herself from their body language, their fists in the air, their jumping up and slumping down. Then she took in the anger in their faces. Their disbelief. Their shock.

“They didn’t think he’d lose,” she whispered silently to herself.

“No, they didn’t,” said Thanar with some admiration in his voice. “Sebastian played them like a fiddle. Made them think rage would make him foolish. Allowed them to guess that his inexperience would make him easy pickings. Even gave Lord Gareth a chance or two to get a nick in on his skin. But now this ends.”

“Now he’s going in for the kill,” Ciardis solemnly as she watched Sebastian do just that.

With a lunge and backward pull, Sebastian sent Lord Gareth’s sword flying and disarmed him. With the tip of sword at the base of the man’s throat, Sebastian forced him to his knees.

Pale hatred crossed Lord Gareth’s face. Then he did the last thing he could do to salvage his pride. Amplifying his voice with his mage gift, he projected to the crowds his last request as he said, “Kill me.”

Sebastian stepped back to shocked silence all around the arena. He tapped into Lord Gareth’s power and they all heard him say, “No, live with your defeat.”

Then Sebastian walked back to his three friends. Anyone who had been standing in the maudlin hope that Lord Gareth would salvage the day and defeat the prince heir slunk back into their seats slowly.

When Sebastian reached Ciardis she hurried from between Thanar’s wings and kissed him fiercely on the lips. “You foolish man.”

Sebastian’s lips moved into a smile. “It was worth it to see the defeat on the smug bastard’s face.”

Ciardis leaned back. “But it was worth so much more than that.”

“I know,” said Sebastian softly while wiping a light sweat from his brow. “I almost killed a man for what he said about you. But I admit silencing this crowd was a very good second prize.”

She looked at him fondly. “Well done.”

Over Sebastian’s shoulder Ciardis watched Lord Gareth slink out of the arena with the help of his servant who he berated from the moment he was in hearing distance. She didn’t think that was the last they would see of the man, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

“Shall we?” said Vana.

With her hand still cupping Sebastian’s face, Ciardis turned to see Vana pointing at the empty podium.

With a sigh, Sebastian asked, “If you’d accompany me to the raised podium, Ciardis Weathervane, now we can convince a bunch of bigoted, wealthy idiots to throw away the lives of hundreds of their soldiers for our cause. But with words this time.”

Despite the situation, Ciardis cracked a smile. “I would be delighted, Prince Heir.”

Sebastian sheathed his sword, Vana picked up the fallen sword Lord Gareth had left behind, and they proceeded to take the stage.

C
iardis and Sebastian stepped up onto the raised platform alone. Thanar and Vana waited at the base to guard the entrance. Although Ciardis could feel without turning around that Thanar’s focus was more on the air above them just in case any attacks came from the sky.

Taking a deep breath, Sebastian spoke, “Sonorous on.”

His voice magnified ten times so that every individual in every corner could hear him. Ciardis could feel the amplifying spell that was bound to the woodwork of the podium. It was an ordinary piece of residual magic, although she’d never seen one invoked on so large a stationary object before. Leaving Ciardis standing in the middle of the round raised platform, Sebastian walked in a circle with his hands upraised.

“Were you amused?” he roared.

“Did we feed your entertainment?” he said, turning around with a snarl. “Because we all saw and heard your animalistic cries for more blood. You fed like ravenous wolves on carrion.”

Disgust laced his tone. He paused and then said, “Are you ghouls or are you
nobles
? This land is ours. These people are ours, and yet you sit here in your comfortable homes in the capital city. Safe from turmoil, safe from strife, safe from hunger.”

“We feed our people!” shouted one woman. As if that was the most reprehensible trait Sebastian had named.

Sebastian turned to search for the voice that came from a woman who had stood on the second level of the benches in the northern corner. He spotted her.

“Do you, Lady Merriweather?”

She nodded defiantly.

“That’s good, but does your neighbor, Lord Cymis?” Sebastian said with his eyes cutting to a gentleman in the fifth row. “Or does he spend every coin earned by his vineyard laborers making the wine you so enjoy, in the taverns and bar rooms of this very city?”

The man stood and sputtered but quickly sat down in the face of Sebastian’s anger. It was clear he wasn’t a fighter.

Lady Merriweather looked up at Lord Cymis and sniffed. Then she sat down. She apparently wasn’t going to defend Lord Cymis’s actions. Perhaps because she knew he was guilty of the very thing Sebastian charged him with—being a drunkard who cared more for his bottom line than his starving people.

Sebastian turned an eagle-eyed gaze on the men and women who sat in raised tiers around him. “Our people suffer while we sit here sniping over court gossip and battling each other for fleeting supremacy day after day. Does that not anger you? Like it does me?”

“What does it matter?” shouted one young man who didn’t rise. He didn’t have to. He was tall enough to tower over his compatriots seated just as he was. He was also as pale as a moon calf with ice-white hair.

There’s frost giant blood in him,
Ciardis thought to herself.

The interrupter continued, “No offense meant, Prince Heir. But you are not the emperor. You do not rule these lands.”

Sebastian paused and smiled. “You’re right, I am not. I am a servant of His Imperial Majesty just as you all are. I come at his request.”

“What request would that be?” said a walrus-looking man with a quiet tone. His tone and look said he was reserving his judgment for later.

“To hear me out as the prince heir and give me the proper respect due to the heir to the imperial throne,” Sebastian said calmly.

Murmurs erupted all around them as nobles turned to discuss with compatriots and furious hand gestures were made.

Ciardis walked up to Sebastian and put her hand on his arm. She was careful to speak only in her thoughts so their voices wouldn’t project.

Guess everything needs to be a consensus here?

He chuckled.
These fossils wouldn’t know what ‘consensus’ meant if it bit them in the butt. They only know back-stabbing and conflict.

Then how to do you suggest we rally them to war
? Ciardis said in a voice rising in disbelief.

By appealing to their love of blood and sport. They will see this as the ultimate game. As they sit in the emperor’s court they have grown stagnant with boredom. Now they will leap like a starving tiger at any hint of amusement.

Just like they did with your fight with Lord Gareth.

Exactly.

Sadness entered Ciardis’s voice,
Are all the people at court really such monsters?

Sebastian enveloped her in a tight hug.
They’re not all monsters, dear. Just emotionally deprived beasts who will strike at any sign of weakness. Therefore we must treat them as such. Feeding their lust for blood. We must hope they see the
blutgott
as a way to satiate their growing need.

That is no way to live. In a perpetual circle of reprisal,
she scoffed.

It is all they know how to be,
he said softly.

Finally the walrus-like man turned from conferring with his colleagues and said, “Speak, Prince Heir, we will listen.”

Sebastian nodded and turned from Ciardis, their fingers once more intertwined, and they faced outward.

“For weeks I served in the emperor’s armies to the north,” Sebastian said with quiet strength. “I was there to fight back the presence of the Sarvinian threat but I...we—”

Sebastian paused as he looked over at Ciardis Weathervane and raised her hand in acknowledgement. Ciardis kept her face calm and defiant. She wanted to tell the gathered nobles what the imperial family had concealed in the depths of the north, that the mysterious fighters from Sarvinia had been nothing but a ruse, a fable. But she didn’t. She didn’t stay silent to protect Sebastian. She did it because she knew it would not serve their cause here to hurt the imperial throne. These people wouldn’t rally around Sebastian alone. They needed to see the entire might and strength of the Algardis name supporting him. That included the imposter emperor. Exposing their traitorous tactics might make the emperor rue the day he threw his already tenuous support behind them.